


Touch

by yeaka



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Animal Ears, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Squall finds Cloud under a new curse.





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I was playing Coded and Hades called Cloud a “lost puppy”... 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingdom Hearts or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He tenses as soon as he pushes open the door, sensing another’s presence—but it isn’t Heartless. Once he’s slipped through and locked the room behind him, he gives Cloud a proper look. A quick glance is enough to reveal who the shadowed figure hunched in the corner is, even with the crimson cape draped around his face, covering his golden hair and hiding away his clear blue eyes. Squall knows Cloud too well for that. He places his gunblade on the dresser—still within reach—as he strolls forward, and when he stands in front of Cloud’s crumpled form, he asks simply, “What’re you doing here?”

It’s a hotel, yes, but this is _Squall’s_ room. He always rents it, and Cloud must know that. And Cloud’s almost never _here_ at all. He spends all his days skulking about the Coliseum, until he does his new round of checking—though Squall promised long ago to alert Cloud the second he sees _him_.

Cloud tilts his head lower towards the ground, if that’s even possible, and grunts, “Hades concocted a new torture for me.” His arms, drawn up around his legs, pull taut, his fists clenching. Squall’s stomach tightens at the words, even though he knows that half of Cloud’s pain is self-imposed. 

When Cloud doesn’t explain any more, just sits and soaks in bitterness, Squall presses, “What did he do?”

“ _He took my wing._ ”

Unsure he understood the swift hiss, Squall dully repeats, “Your _wing_?” Cloud makes an anguished noise in the back of his throat. He looks like he’s torn between withdrawing further into himself and lashing right out. 

Sinking down to crouch before him, Squall slowly reaches forward. Cloud grunts when Squall grips the makeshift hood, but he doesn’t pull away—he rarely ever pulls away from Squall anymore. Squall pushes back the cloak, revealing the silken blond locks he remembers, drawn up in jagged spikes, and a new hump of furry ears, triangular but flopped forward at the tips, reminding Squall distinctly of a dog.

“He _disfigured_ me,” Cloud seethes, while Squall _stares_. “He thinks this is a joke!”

He probably does. Squall’s only met the lord of the underworld once or twice, and he liked Hades even less than he likes most people.

He likes Cloud more than most, even if he’s never said it aloud. And he’s liking Cloud more by the minute. It’s hard to brood along with Cloud when faced with the sight of him sporting puppy ears. Matching well with his hair yet comically contrasting, they’re ridiculously...

Cute. There’s no other word for it. Cloud’s attitude only makes it worse. But Squall knows better than to tell Cloud that, so he forgoes words, instead reaching out to scratch behind one ear, glove and all, and Cloud stiffens and tilts, both ears twitching.

Squall runs his fingers back through Cloud’s hair, massaging Cloud’s skull and petting him from just above his forehead down the back of his neck. Cloud’s eyes go wide, lips parting, like he doesn’t know what to say, what to do—and that lasts longer than he normally lets it. Then he scrunches up his nose and gives Squall a grumble without actually making any move to stop it.

Squall takes that to mean it’s working. So he gives in to the urge to pet Cloud in broader, fuller strokes, and he scoops Cloud up against him with the other hand, pulling Cloud away from the corner—Cloud folds into his arms, blushing hotly and looking pointedly away. It gives Squall room too see over Cloud’s shoulder, where a particularly shaggy tail has started wagging. 

Squall can’t help a little smile. He admits, “I like it.”

That breaks the spell—Cloud shoves away. Glaring at the far wall, he mutters, “How the hell am I supposed to face _him_ now?”

“You’re not,” Squall answers easily, which instantly draws Cloud’s eyes. “You’re supposed to move on with your life, like the rest of us, and deal with the new threats in this world instead of yesterday’s vendetta.” He knows it’s rich, coming from him, but at least Squall’s struggle is fruitful. Fighting the Heartless is a worthy cause. Watching Cloud run off alone to chase a shadow of the past is always depressing. 

Cloud looks at Squall with a look somewhere between agonized and lost. Squall catches his wrist and lifts up, tugging it, offering, “C’mon, let’s just get to bed. I’ll rub your stomach until you feel better.”

Cloud blushes deeper, grumbling. But he listens.


End file.
